


Bowl Boy

by Stefanyeah



Category: Muse
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stefanyeah/pseuds/Stefanyeah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy born with a bowl on his head meets his true love. A BellDom fairy tale adaptation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bowl Boy

**Author's Note:**

> For this month's Fairy Tale challenge. Finally I managed to cook up something for the monthly challenges, wheeee!
> 
> This heavily draws, not to say rips off, a Japanese fairy tale that's in one of my favourite fairy tale books First I wanted to do Hanasaki Jisan (strangely enough my favourite fairy tale), but Hatschibime is more fitting for a BellDom adaptation.

Once upon a time in a far away land when magic and wonders still were possible, there was a married couple. They were so poor, that they barely had a roof above their heads. But they loved each other dearly and it was enough to wake with a smile in the morning and fall asleep with a smile in the morning.

And on one beautiful day, the woman gave birth to a boy. But the boy had been born with a wooden bowl on his head and no matter what they tried or which miracle healer or wise man they sought out for help and advise, no one could remove the wooden bowl. Whenever someone would try and prise the bowl away, the little boy would cry horribly as if someone tried to rip his head off his tiny body.

So his parents said, “He is our son and we shall love him as one can only love a son.”

And they loved him and called him Matthew and they taught him in all the virtues and crafts. Soon, they did not see the wooden bowl any longer, but only a sprightly and endearing boy. And when he sung, their hearts swelled with love for his voice was a beautiful as the nightingale at night and as joyful as a skylark at day.

But alas, as so often, happiness does not last. And so, when Matthew was still a young boy, his parents got struck by a severe sickness that had befallen the land. Many lost their lives to the evil sickness and within a week the poor boy with the bowl had become an orphan.

Matthew wept bitterly for many days, but in the end, he had to earn his living. So he fastened his belongings in a little pocket and left the little house.

At that time it happened that a wealthy Lord had lost his beloved daughter to the sickness. The good man was mourning and fading with each day and his wife and sons were worried about him.

Each day, the mourning father would sit beneath his daughter's favourite cherry tree and look into the branches and ask the heavens why they had taken his precious pearl.

One day the mourning father came to his daughter's cherry tree and he found a most curious figure sitting beneath it, weeping quietly. The figure seemed to be a young boy, not older or younger than his daughter, but so much more haggard and starved. His clothes were torn and dirty, a little stick with a few belongings tied to it by use of a rag lying next to the weeping boy. The most curious thing about the strange boy however was the wooden bowl on top of his head.

Curious, the man stepped closer and sat down next to the boy. He tried to peek beneath the bowl, but it was impossible to see beneath.

“Why don't you take this wooden bowl off, boy?”

The boy started, as if he had not noticed the other's presence and turned his head towards the man. “I know not how,” he answered, his voice hoarse and cracked from weeping and hunger. “I was born with the bowl grown to my head.”

“This is most odd,” the man answered. “What is your name, boy, and how did you come here? Why are you crying so badly?”

“My parents called me Matthew,” answered the boy. Another sob came from his throat before he continued. “They died in the evil sickness that wrecked this land. I buried them and then I was on my own. After mourning for many days, I tied my belongings to the stick and left to earn my living. I offered my services to many, but no one wanted my presence.”

The man looked at Matthew and his heart was heavy. The boy's tale had reminded him of his own loss and pain. And so he said, “My poor boy, I have lost my youngest child, my precious daughter, to the sickness. And still, there are my sons and my wife remaining. You have lost so much more. Come with me, I shall take you as my third child and perhaps we can ease each other's pain.”

And Matthew followed the man home. But the wife and sons were not happy about the new child. They said, “What strange creature did you bring into this house? There must be a reason why he's hidden beneath the wooden bowl. He must be despicable and ugly, maybe he will bring the sickness and other evil into this household again.”

But the father insisted and Matthew stayed. And with each day, Matthew grew healthier and stronger, although he never gained the strength that the other sons possessed. But with each passing day, his voice grew more beautiful. Had it been weak and scratchy when Matthew had arrived, it soon became the beautiful song of a spring bird again.

And after many days, even the sons and the wife had accepted Matthew's presence, his gentle being and helpful demeanour winning the household's favour.

And one day, Matthew's voice had become strong, but still kept it's frangile quality whenever he sung. He had taken to set the table for each meal and was humming a melody when the youngest son, Dominic, came into the dining room. He stood in the door and stared at the boy with the bowl and couldn't move for his song was so beautiful like nothing he had ever heard before. And it was that moment that he fell in love with the bowl boy.

At that time, the oldest son, Christopher, had found a fair lady and had founded a family. So Dominic's parents found it was time for the younger son to find a wife as well. But Dominic would refuse any bride that was presented to him. One was too tall, the other too broad, none had the right voice.

So at one evening, the father called Dominic into his office to talk from father to son.

“Dominic, your parents are worried about you,” he spoke. “You are a grown up man now and you need to find a wife to marry and be happy with.”

“I know, father, and I want to get married.”

“We only looked for the fairest of maidens for you, my son.”

“I know, father, and I am eternally grateful for all you did for me,” answered Dominic. “But alas, the right one wasn't among them.”

“So tell me, who is the right one?” his father cried.

“Oh, father, I dare not to say it, but I am in love with Matthew,” Dominic finally admitted.

His father was silent and looked at his son, searching for the truth in his eyes finding only the deepest love. Eventually, the old man nodded. “He is a good boy. I shall give you my blessing.”

And Dominic fell into his father's arms and thanked him amidst tears. And he rushed to Matthew to tell him about his father's blessing. But Matthew dipped his head as if in shame and retreated to his own room.

Confused, Dominic stayed behind. He tried to approach Matthew for days, but each time, Matthew would retreat without a word uttered. And one day, Matthew broke with his habit of setting the table, nor did he appear until the evening.

Desperate, Dominic sought help from his father. Who frowned and agreed that this was unlikely behaviour for Matthew.

“I shall find him and find the truth about his elusiveness,” the old man spoke. He bid Dominic to wait in his room and left the house, for he had a suspicion where to find the bowl boy.

And really, beneath the old and knobbly cherry tree where he and Matthew had met for the first time, the old man found the boy with the wooden bowl. Matthew sat in the same spot he had sat on the day several years ago. The old man sat down in his own spot, sighing when his old bones wouldn't work as good any more.

“My son is desperate, he believes you don't love him as much as he loves you,” the old man said.

A sob was heard from beneath the wooden bowl. “I love him even more,” Matthew answered. “He's like the sun that rises each morning to light up my day.”

“And you're like the song of the birds leading him through the day,” the father answered.

Matthew was silent for a while. “You have shown nothing but kindness to me,” he spoke eventually. “How can I ever repay this? I am nothing but a humble son of poor peasants, I could never be worthy enough for someone shining as bright as Dominic.”

“He cares not about your origins,” the father answered. “And I have taken you as my son. You came to me when I needed solace and comfort and I could never find someone of virtue and grace more befitting my son than you.”

“I am most honoured,” said Matthew and dipped his head. “May I think about my decision tonight?”

“Of course,” the father answered and slowly stood. He smiled at the boy with the bowl before leaving.

That night, Matthew sat beneath the cherry tree and thought all night, but couldn't reach a decision. Finally, he fell asleep, tired from thinking and crying.

And in his dream, he saw his mother standing in front of him, surrounded by bright light and the weight on his head was gone. His mother smiled at him and reached out to stroke his cheek.

“My Matthew,” she whispered.

“Mother,” Matthew choked and reached up to grasp her hand, but he slid through and touched his cheek instead. Startled, he yanked his hand back and stared down at it for he had never touched his own cheek before.

“Don't be afraid, my beloved son,” she smiled and Matthew felt warm and secure again. “Mary Dominic, he is a good man.”

“But how can a peasant as I am be married to someone as noble as him? He will be ridiculed and cast out from his friends and kin and kinship.”

“Don't be afraid, my son,” she repeated and the light around her grew weaker. “Everything will be good.”

And she was gone and wouldn't come back no matter how loud Matthew screamed. Finally, he woke again to the sound of birds singing in the tree above him.

Matthew looked up and smiled beneath the wooden bowl. And he returned to relate to Dominic what he had dreamt and that he would marry him.

And so the household was buzzing with the preparations for the wedding, meals were prepared and the rooms were decorated and everyone was merry.

But when the happy day finally arrived, and the kin and kinship saw the groom with wooden bowl, they cried in outrage and seized Matthew and tried to tear the bowl off his head. “It doesn't befit a family of our rank and wealth to mingle with a cursed creature as him!”

Matthew screamed as if his head was about to be torn off and still they would not let him go and pulled on the bowl and fetched hammer and chisel. Finally, Dominic could not stand the screams of his beloved Matthew any more and cried for his kin to let him go and that he didn't care about their wealth if he could be together with his love.

They let go of the poor bowl boy and turned to Dominic with a nasty sneer, when the sound of something cracking was heard behind them. Everyone turned to the boy with the bowl who was kneeling on the ground, his hands pressed against the bowl.

But the wood had become cracked and it was breaking apart, falling to the floor around Matthew. And where the pieces hit the floor, they splintered into many gleaming gemstones, pearls and jewels. But no one noticed the shining colours that were falling to the floor around the groom, for Matthew's face had been revealed. And his hair was as black as a starless sky at night and his eyes were as blue as the cloudless sky of the day.

And so the scorn of the kin and kinship had become untenable and the wedding was held. And Matthew and Dominic would wake with a smile in the morning and they would fall asleep with a smile in the evening for many years until they fell asleep with a smile and in each others' arms for the last time.


End file.
